Valentine Flowers
by NekomimiToree
Summary: When Shui Jing falls in love with Jason, she finds herself engineering the perfect opportunity to confess her feelings. But a wrench is thrown into the plans when Jason has not shown up for the past two days! It is up to the awesome Tery (no relation to NekomimiTery, I mean Toree) to save the day.


**Not an A/N:** Formula for a bad fanfic.

 **Self-indulgent self-insert character?:** check

 **Unedited spelling and grammar?:** check

 **Cliche love-fic on Valentine's day?:** double check :3 :3

 **Terrible writer?:** check 'unedited spelling and grammar' for more details

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That's right folks, just over at yonder: hit backspace and click the 'forum' button in the top-right, and you will find the Maplestory FanFic Club, hosted by yours truly. There are only writers there now, but all readers welcome! Join us for chat, fun, and help on getting started on your writing. I want to make it more reader-friendly, so please, tell me what I can do for you~

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* * *

 **A/N:** Happy Valentine's day folks. Here is a spiritual sequel/AU/gift-fic/whatever you want to call it for fans of my Crystal Flowers. You can read that if you want but it is not mandatory (it probably have better grammar and spelling anyways). As a matter of fact, I rather have you read that than this terrible-writer-rushed-work for Valentine's day. Check back next week when I get around to editing.

* * *

The invitation in my hand is, at this point, the scariest thing in the whole world. Although it is not the end of the world, scaling the front yard of the school to send out the envelopes to Teresa might as well be the death of me. "Hey, Tery." I catch up to her in the nick of time before she sets foot off the gate.

"What's up?" she perks, lifting her eyes away from her Facebook profile for a rare second before pouring her attention back to the screen.

"Here." I pass the envelope, oh-so-pink and designed into the shape of a heart, sealed with wax and stamped with a heart, onto her.

She has to take two glances at the thing before its mind-boggling design could steal her attention. Blood rushes to my face as she flips the invite around, but this embarrassment is nothing compared to what I am about to do next.

"Huh. I always thought you liked someone else," she says, and I stop sending out the other invite I have in my back.

"Maplemas," I answer quietly. "It's for my Dad's Maplemas party."

She sends me a I-am-so-done-with-your-dad kind of look before saying, "I'll give it to Leol that his jokes are getting more creative but they're still the least funny thing in the entire multiverse. When is it?"

"Tomorrow."

"Anyone else coming?"

"Dad says once you hear about it, the whole town would be coming even before the party started."

Her look deepens then, something which I was so sure was impossible. "Cool. I'll just invite the whole town and see how he likes it. Well I gotta get started on that and work on my shipping tree, so smell ya later."

She turns which both eases my mind, and raises my heart rate. It is now or never. "Wait, Tery." I shove the second invitation forward, making sure to have it face-down. She examines the envelope that is so white, so plain compared to the other one. "Can you give this to," I'm too shy to say his name, "him?"

She finds out anyways when she turns it in her hand. Jason Cerge. And like any girl with a shipping tree, she immediately recognizes the handwriting and a few other things. The only thing I am unprepared for is how far and how accurate her conclusions can leap. "This Maplemas party is not Leol's idea, is it?"

I only sheepishly nod. "He's planned it and hosting it though, although he'll need help with the secret gift exchange."

"Alrighty," she says with finality and I hope then that she will go home. But my own envelope has sparked updates on her tree, leaving no way for me to stop the explosion. "So do you want Jason's gift or do you want a gift for Jason? Or...both?" Tery is the nicest person I know, but her smile is absolutely foxy.

"I...don't know," I say, destroyed, even though the question is oh-so-very simple. "Maybe?"

"Alrighty. I'll take care of it. But," she winks, "no promises."

"Tery!"

"Smell ya later, Jing Jing."

* * *

I stretch the angel in my hand as far up as I can to the top of the Maplemas tree. The piney mint of the leaves scratches the surface of my skin, so I worry, somehow, that I will not look my best today. I tip my toes on the stepladder for a little boost, freeing the side of my chin from touching the tree. Almost there...

"Do you think he'll come? Will he, will he?" Dad suddenly asks, imitating my voice, scaring the be-rhinne out of me. The angel soars out of my hand, I fall back, and Dad swoops for my shoulders like a superhero who never heard of the words 'bridal-style'.

"Daddy!" I can't help but scream out. "You almost killed me!"

"Sorry, squirt. But I just can't wait to see the boy who stole my little girl's heart."

"He didn't steal my heart!" I embarrassingly deny, shoving him, then going back to my tree decorating. The brushes of the leaves on the tip of my fingers do nothing to relax my nerves. With a grip on my hips and a good old alley-oop, I can finally put the angel in the right place.

"I don't know if he'll come. I haven't seen him at school for the last two days," I admit to myself.

"Wait, so he's a ditcher? My little squirt can't be with someone whose too dumb to know what's good for him!"

"Dad! Don't call him that!" I am surprised at how fast I come to his defense. "His grades are good. Some are even better than mines." I say it like it is true, like it matters, but the fact is that I have the higher average. Dad, being the most resourceful person I know, has a list of all the boys and girls smarter than me, and Jason Cerge is not one of them.

I wish he would tell me that someone like him would never be a good fit for me, if only bottling my feelings is the most annoying thing in the world. But he smiles, because he listens to Teresa on shipping advice and Teresa's matching algorithm is dangerously correct.

"As long as you're happy." He talks about it like it is so easy, when it will take:

A) Teresa finding him=easy

B) Him coming=slightly harder

C) Finding me attractive=if my dad is a reliable source, easy

D) Actually dating me=I don't even want to think about it

"Hey you know what the best scenario would be?" Dad asks. "A kiss after opening the gift. Dandy, right?"

My imagination violently sparks. "Dad!" I protest.

There is still about a hour until the party starts, but the doorbell rings then. "Jason?" I carelessly ask when Dad gets to the door.

"Hey!" Teresa, her twin, Edward, and his girlfriend, Mae, screams in unison.

* * *

The party is a success.

While Dad did joke about inviting the whole town, he did prepare enough home-cooking (and let's be honest, we bought pizza too, just in case things turn inedible) to definitely _feed_ the whole town. When Ryan and a pack of his guy friends burst into the kitchen for another round of ribs, I debate whether it is a good idea to tell them there are three more racks in the oven.

Oh, who am I kidding?!

Of course it is a great idea! Anything is a great idea, really, when the only guest you want to come is nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, Shui Jing!" Teresa calls from across the room, waving her hand. She is by the front door with Edward and Mae. I find it hard to not marvel at the couple like an art exhibit. They've been steady since the end of middle school, with no sign of stopping, despite how jealous, or jelly as Teresa calls it, it makes everyone feel.

"We're going Christmas caroling! Want to join us?!" screams Mae, shattering the conversations happening in each corner of the room.

"Indoor voice, Mae," Edward says with a shake of his head and a cute smile.

"But everyone's talking so loudly! Whoops! Too loud this time!"

Teresa comes to everyone's rescue then, swooping me by the hand into our little circle of four. Mae does her best attempt at whispering which some might call 'all amounts of fail'. "We also have some boozee inside the trunk, so drinky, drunky."

"Psst, the umpygay oldyay anmay might be isteninglay," Dad says from behind Mae, leaning in so far that, once startled, nothing is stopping Mae's head from hitting his nose. "Ow."

"Oh, um, Leol! We'll be caroling. Will be back by the seven o'clock gift exchange!" Teresa quips, then turns to tell me, "By the way, I forgot to tell you. The gift exchange. You got my name."

"But—." I did not get to finish because the person who I intended to give my gift to pass by the window right outside. The Maplemas showers had started, and even though his hair kinda looks like vomit, nothing could be prettier than those aquatic droplets shining with the front light.

The knocking from the front door sends my legs pounding up the steps in tune to my breathing and my heartbeat.

* * *

The voice of Leol getting to know Jason is one of the smirkiest tones I have ever heard him use. Maybe I should close the door to my room, but when I hear Jason's plain, old honey-sweet voice, I nearly melt into a puddle. How can someone so stupid make me feel so crazy?!

I bury myself into the pillow, oh take me now, into some alternate dimension where this Maplemas never happened.

Shouldn't I be happy that I showed up? No, not exactly, not really. Happy is far from what I am feeling right now. Crazy, confused, frustrated, excited, world-exploding into a swirl of flushing and wild thoughts is more like it. Rhinne, I really want his arms around my waist and that filthy head of hair on my chest. Preferably while on this bed, but I will take what you will give.

The knocking on my door sends whatever is in my hand into all kinds of flying.

"I thought you went caroling," I call to Teresa in a voice that I hope could hide my blushing.

"I run fast, remember?" she returns, and it takes a minute for my passion-filled mind to realize she just told me a whole answer of nonsense. Although I am the most terrible at relationships, even the friendly-neighborhood shipper can't hide her own jealous insecurities.

"Sorry I stole your little gift."

Usually I'm nice enough to say that it doesn't matter, but since my gift is kept under wraps even to Dad, I say, "It's not too late to turn it back."

"Well, I guess I can. Master list perks and all. But," smiles like a fox, "where's the fun in that?"

"Tery!"

She kicks the door shut behind her, and wrestles me into her embrace. "Anyways, I'm here to say sorry for not telling you earlier."

I roll my eyes behind her back. "But you're not going to take it back."

"Definitely nopers." We break away. "So now that the single and ready to mingle JC is here, what do you plan to do?"

"I don't know," I say and start to hate how much I keep saying that. I also hate how frigid I sound as if asking a boy out is scarier than whatever scary things hide under my bed and in my closet.

"Ask him out!" she hushes, frustrated. "The integrity of my tree compels you. Canon or no canon, you'll ask him out even if I have to write the love letter for you!"

"Oh, Rhinne. Please, don't! I would ask him out, but I don't know how! I mean, how does a girl even ask a boy out? Like 'Hey, boy, you're looking hot in that shirt. You wanna make out?' That just sounds so weird. I'm weird!"

I must say that it feels absolutely over the wall to blurt everything out in one stroke. I should do that often, if I do not immediately regret it afterwards.

Teresa holds me by the chin then, and gives me the pursing of the lips a disapproving designer would to a stray puppy. She finds the tweezers I use for my little, sacred toe hairs. "Then let's build your confidence up. Have you ever gotten your eyebrows done?" I wish her smile was more foxy then, because as much as I hate to say it, she looks positively devilish with those pain-clippers.

Turning away from her, the last thing I expect to see outside the window is Jason playing basketball in the rain.

* * *

The off-key splatter of rain against the tin-tin trashcans and the plopping red party cups cannot be compared to how much the sight of Jason in the rain disturbs me. I should find the steady beat of the ball welcoming, as with any time Dad and I play, but against the drowning whooshes of water, I feel helpless. The backdoor balcony shields me from the wet assault, but right now, I only wish that was big enough to stretch the whole backyard.

What is happening?

Does he enjoy playing in the rain, all by himself, even though his jeans are soaked with weight? How is that even a question?

I turn around, to Teresa who is covering the back door, handling the questions that neither of us have answers to. Dad screams Yahtzee from in the living room, and I perk a little smile at that distraction.

Teresa notices me staring at her then and shrugs. Even though she keeps such close connection with her array of friends, there are some things about that mysterious boy that even she could not find.

That, for some inexplicable reason, destroys me.

He hasn't been to school in two days. He is by himself in the rain. What is going on?

I take my pink umbrella then, the one which always reminds me of love, but not this time. Love is the farthest thing from my mind when I catch the ball and droop the rain-barrier over us. He is so close I can see the rain rolling down his muscular, kissable cheeks, and I am intimidated. By the intensity of his glare. By the loneliness emancipating from them. By how much I do not know and how little I can do.

"Hey, you look a bit wet." I flash a winning smile. He smiles back and I wish I could not tell it was forced and fake.

He looks like there are so many things he wants to say, "Thanks," and realizes that I am not the person he wants to tell. The ball bounces in his hand again and I cover him as he trains because that is the only thing I could do.

Only once the rain stops did I wish it would never. "You can go back in now," he coldly says as if we did not know each other since elementary school.

I hate how much that crushes my heart. An honest-to-goodness love-confession-rejection would be so much better than this. We are better friends than this, so why is he doing this to me?

"Yeah, sure," I uselessly reply, stretching out time that seems so borrowed, so thin, and so worthless.

By the dry and warmth I see Dad getting his second Yahtzee for the night but I force him out of his win streak. I force him up the stairs and into my room as he tells the party to not burning to the ground while he is away.

I wish I could talk to him like a Dad would, but I only end up weak in my teenage squeak. "What did you say to him?"

"I didn't say anything! Swear to Alice!" He holds his hands in the air like this is still some big joke to him, and not my best friend in the whole wide world basically told me to 'shove off'.

"Then why is he out there! Why is he in the rain?"

Thank goodness Leol closes the door before my controlled screams could be heard by someone else. "I don't know. We were chatting very nicely, but then he, I don't know—shifted? A bit?—when I asked about his parents." His parents? What's wrong with his parents? "The conversation died, then I started the games. Maybe you ought to talk to him?"

I wish that didn't work out so poorly the first time.

Then, almost immediately, I eat the words my own wish.

Out the window, I see Jason falling apart into Teresa's arms, umbrella on the ground, a slight sprinkle of rain completing their perfect union.

* * *

Jason passes by my room while Dad escorts both him and the girl with her arms around him into Dad's room. Teresa stares at me with large, guilty eyes, as if she has nothing to hide. Then, I consider whether I should be jealous of my best friend in the entire world.

At that time, Dad finds it funny to add, "No sex now. Cameras are everywhere," before closing the door.

"Come on, squirt. It's seven." I take his invitation to ease my mind.

The gift exchange goes as well as any other gift exchange. My Dad was part of it. Strangely enough, he got Mae a small stuffed snowman that can fit on her dresser, when I fully expected baby clothes. Haha, very funny thing to do for a couple. That was not the last surprise when Ryan's small, little gift to Dad turns into a, should I say, small explosion of bras and panties.

"I hope you don't plan to be giving this to my little girl!" Leol jokes, swinging the lacy one—oh Rhinne why does it have to be that one?—like a lasso. "Catch!" And it lands so rightly onto Ryan's head. Then he stretches a pair of sleeping panties along his waist line. "Hey, you got my size. Oh, you shouldn't have!" And I would laugh too if I had never walked in on Mom and Dad doing some kinky role-playing.

The loop of gifts stops twice, and by the second, it was down to three people. Teresa, me, and Jason. From what Teresa told me, I got her, Jason got me, and she got Jason. A trinity of awkwardness waiting to happen.

"Hey! Jason!" Kyra screams from the bottom of the stairs in an accent that is perfectly polite. "It's your turn to hand over the presents now. Wouldn't want to keep us waiting." Apparently she is slow on the uptake.

Teresa materializes from the stairs, her classy buttoned-up shirt looking slightly off-buttoned. Trying to trick myself into thinking it's only my imagination only reinforces the thought. "I'll be handling Jason's gifts." She smiles, and unlike Jason's, I cannot tell if it is genuine or not.

"Let's see." Teresa's strut across the floor is absolutely dazzling then, sexy, and, dare I think, evil. Her fingers pick up the one wrapped with Valentine-themed polka dots. "Jason Cerge. And this present is for...Jing Jing!"

All eyes fall upon us as I take up the gift that should feel like the victory medal of a rite of passage. It is small, the size of a thin book, but Jason knows I hate reading.

It is a set of Prisma-plus color pencils. Even a month's saving of my allowance could barely afford me this luxury. Ryan puts it best, "Damn, that must cost a shit ton of cash!"

And Mae puts it worst, "Even Edward wouldn't buy me something so expensive."

And Kyra puts it off my mind, temporarily, "From the looks of things, you got Teresa, then."

"Yeah," I softly reply. I hand it to her, wrapped in yellow and gingerbread men. The box is intricately small, but I only know to send jewelry to the person you love, boy or no boy. She shakes it a little.

What Teresa then says, sends the room into an uproar. "I think I will hold off on opening it for now."

"What?"

"Aww!"

"That's cheating!"

"Well, I'm not opening it and that's final!" Teresa playfully winks. Dad tries the lunge and grab approach but Teresa is far to swift, far to crafty, and just so smug in her attention-seeking. "Now how about what I got for good, old Jason? You want to do the honors, Leol?"

"Alright, but, ahem, alright." He goes into his Hercules impression, the one which he uses when still guessing as to who this Jason person was. "Now what have we here? A jar of cookies! Why this is no more than a fraction of an ounce of gold?"

"No, mister H," says Edward who just cannot help himself at this point. "My sis's cookies are legendary good. At least more than your hero impression!"

Laugh abounds, but I am so tired then. As the party retreats into the, thankfully clear night sky, I climb back into my room. Before closing the door, I take a long look at my Dad's adjacent door.

When I am on my bed and silently crying, I hear the hinges of the neighboring room open and the pound of sneaks down the stairs.

I hate how wrong, yet right, it feels to hate Teresa.

* * *

"There is nothing between me and Jason," Teresa affirms after school when I am sitting in a daze, in the class, long after the bell had rung. I have to wonder how many times in history those kind of lines had been said then believed.

She hands me my gift back as if that would make be feel better. Her voice is caring when she says, "He needs you right now. Go give it to him."

"Why?" I ask, then, scared that I might receive an answer.

Close enough. "It's not something that I am free to talk about. You know how he is with his secrets. Look, I'm trying to keep him waiting in the hall leading into the library. He texted me twice already and he will not wait after a third."

Holding the soft gift wrapping, I sense it for the presence of Rhinne who so far has been playing one joke after another on me. Is there really nothing between Jason and Teresa? I refuse to believe it, not until I hear it from his mouth.

"Fine," I say, hoping it is the right thing. Then my inner best friend says, "How about your gift, then?"

"Eh, I can live without it." She smiles as I get up. "You stay here. I'll make him walk. Good lucky." She signs off with a wink.

The ten minutes wait for him to walk there is torture the kind that tyrants would disagree with. I hate this gift, then. Hate how it's just so yellow, like, what was I thinking trying to match his ugly, yet perfectly groomed blonde hair? Is that supposed to be smart and fancy, when I'm just one big dork? Wow, good job Shui Jing. Good, very dandy, diddly job. "Stupid gift!"

The present is thrown across the room when Jason enters, almost without my notice. By the time I do, it is too late to stop him from reading the name tag, 'For: Jason' that is still on it.

No! He's about to—

"Hey, thanks for picking up my gift," Sonata says from his desk. He's the kind of guy everyone always misses, but is inexplicably always there. Like, I was sure he came to the party but missed him the whole time somehow.

"It's for me, right?" Jason asks, puzzled.

"It's _from_ me. _For_ Jasmin. You know, that girl who I always mix your name up with? Of course you don't. No one remembers what I say."

Jason hands the package back. "Have you seen Teresa? She told me to meet her here."

"Had an errand," Sonata shrugs. "Said would be great if you could wait for her outside the room for another ten minutes."

"Alright." Jason shrugs then leaves. Before he does, though, he gives me a looks. This look that I have no name for. A cross between longing, wanting, sorrow, thankfulness, and feelings so mixed, it could be a grass smoothie.

Sonata stops working on his, probably extra credit, homework, to turn to me. "You want your gift back?"

I debate no. I debate yes. I list reasons in my head, only to have him put it on the desk behind him. When I approach him, he tells me, "He loves you, you know? Jason loved you for a very long time now."

"That's not true."

"Look," he glances at the marks on the top of his math problem, "Teresa's algorithm is kind of overwhelming but, it doesn't put a number on everything. Not on what you and Jason have. She can build and grow a tree, but she cannot teach it to love."

Strangely, although his analogies do not work in the slightest, I find myself wanting to believe in the intricate possibilities of a loving tree. "How are you so sure he loves me?"

"I asked him, duh."

"What?!"

"Look, once a guy says, 'yes' to that, you know he can't be lying. Now you can either beat that wrapped thing around or go kiss that—."

I could not hear him finish at the sound of my hushed motions. "Jason!" He is still there, waiting, looking at the phone as if the texts puzzled him.

This is usually the part where we embrace and kiss, and I jump on him while he grips my thighs and puts my back on the lockers. But I am still a dork, so I outstretch my gift as if I did not want to be near him.

"This is Sonata's?"

"No! No! This is from _me_ to _you_! Take it!" I cannot believe how passionate I sound.

"Oh. Hey, listen, Shui Jing. I'm sorry about last weekend. I shouldn't have—."

"No, it's okay. It's okay. Just open it," I say as if I've been waiting an eternity and a half to give it to him.

"But it's not okay! I mean—I'm glad you're okay—but I shouldn't have. Not to you. Truth is, I—."

"Just open the gift already!" My feet stomps to show that I am serious, dead serious.

The yellow wrappings descend from his fingers like a sheet of grass in the wake of the breeze. He flushes at the sight of my gift and smiles sweetly. Bringing my head closer, my lips open at the sight of the pack of condoms in Jason's hand.

Somewhere behind him, near the end of the hall, Teresa holds up the new necklace and gives an air-kiss before dashing away, untraceable, because she is just such a fast runner.

* * *

 **A/N:** Did I say  Maplestory FanFic Club already? Great, so what are you waiting for! Would (heart) to hear from you.


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